The Calderan Problem (Free-Wrench Book 4) Read online

  She thrust her hand out in expectation of a shake. “Pleased to meet you. And let me tell you something, you done a good job on this daughter of yours. Yes, sir.”

  Mr. Graus gave a bemused smile and offered his hand. She gripped it tight and gave it a vigorous shake.

  “I’m pleased you approve,” he said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

  “I sure do!” she said, continuing the handshake as she brushed aside a blond hair that had been shaken loose by her unconventional disembarkation. “Best engineer we seen in Rim in a long time, and whip-smart too. You sure do raise ’em right. Shame I ain’t had the chance to tell you sooner, but this bein’ the first time we come this far inland…”

  “Lil,” barked a gruff voice from the deck of the ship. “You get down under this ship and stand at attention!”

  “Aye, Cap’n!” she called over her shoulder. She finished the shake and wiped her hand on her pants. “Cap’n says you folk got a ceremony or some such all lined up?” she said, straightening her outfit.

  “We do.” Mr. Graus chuckled. “And you’ve skipped to the end.”

  “Oh!” Lil said, trotting backward toward the ship. “Well, tell you what. You just go back to the beginning and I’ll act surprised when we get to this bit again.”

  She turned to sprint to her place beneath the ship, then skidded to a stop just ahead of where the slowly lowering “captain’s gig” would touch down. The frenzied motion of a ship being secured had seized the deck, but for the Wind Breaker crew the frenzy was a bit more frantic. The other deckhand, Coop, for instance, had decided the knot used by the Calderan manning the tower on his side of the ship was subpar. He dashed to and fro between the mooring winches to take out the slack, all the while shouting out tips on how best to secure the line. Meanwhile the captain barked orders and fought the stiff seaside breeze to keep the ship from wandering. Somehow, despite the madness, the ship came to a relatively orderly rest in its new berth. Once it was secure, the flat-bottomed gig finished lowering down, a rope ladder dropped, and the crew assembled one by one in descending order of rank.

  Nita couldn’t help but grin as she got her first good look at them in quite a while. Though the captain was an able leader and enforced quite a few rules, he didn’t normally have much of a dress code for his crew. No doubt in honor of this occasion, that had changed. The whole of the Wind Breaker crew wore matching uniforms. They were new enough that they’d probably been donned for the first time that morning. Each was made from a stiff dark-blue fabric with brass buttons and yellow trim. The captain typically wore some variation of this, albeit a much more threadbare and broken-in version. The armory officer, Gunner, was no stranger to the more formal uniform as well, but he was notably absent. The rest of the crew looked so odd in their outfits that they may as well been wearing costumes.

  Mr. Graus stepped forward to address the captain. Nita stepped up beside them and made the introduction.

  “Father, this is Captain McCulloch West of the Wind Breaker. Captain West, this is Councilman Donovan Graus,” Nita said.

  “An honor to meet the man who kept my daughter safe in an unfamiliar land,” Mr. Graus said, shaking the captain’s hand.

  “Your daughter kept herself safe, Councilman. She was a fine addition to the crew.”

  Graus and West paused for a moment, each measuring the other with a lingering gaze. Captain West was a match for Graus’s height, but easily half again his weight. It was plain to see that life had taken them each in different directions, though somehow found a way to give them many of the same skills. West and his crew didn’t have the dark skin of the Calderans, but the sun had baked the captain quite a bit and left him with a weathered, craggy face that added a few decades to his apparent age. Pale skin around his eyes traced out the shape of the dark glasses he’d removed for the introduction. But most of all, he seemed to radiate leadership, principle, and grit in equal measure, something he and Graus had in common.

  The captain turned to Nita and gave her a stiff nod of greeting before she and her father moved along to the next most senior member of the crew, a formidable woman who was a match for the captain’s age. Portly and with a look on her face that suggested this entire endeavor was taking her away from something far more important, she was also the only member of the crew who wasn’t quite in the proper uniform, as she’d topped her outfit with a clean white apron.

  “This is Glinda West. She acts as both medic and cook for the Wind Breaker.”

  “A pleasure,” Graus said, taking her hand to give it a cordial kiss of greeting.

  She smiled. It was an unfamiliar expression for a woman that, for as long as Nita had known her, had displayed some combination of annoyance and impatience as her only visible emotions. She muttered something in a language Nita had yet to learn the name of. Mr. Graus glanced to his daughter.

  “I believe that means thank you,” Nita whispered.

  Graus nodded. “No, thank you, Ms. West. If your husband kept my girl safe, you kept her healthy. And she has high praise for your culinary expertise. I hope to be able to sample it, if you are willing.”

  Her jowly face reddened a bit, and she said something and gestured for him to move to the next crewmember.

  “Look at that,” Coop said. “I ain’t never seen Butch blush like that. Your daddy’s a charmer, Nita!”

  “Coop, you keep your jaw from flapping until they’re through with their ceremony,” the captain barked.

  “Sorry, Cap’n.”

  Coop, by a considerable margin the tallest member of the crew, had quite a lean build. He’d also missed a button when donning his uniform that morning.

  “Deckhand Ichabod Cooper,” Nita said.

  Coop grabbed Mr. Graus by the hand and pumped it in a shake that threatened to rattle his arm free of his shoulder. “No sense calling me anything other than Coop, Mr. Graus. And since nobody else saw fit to do it, I reckon I ought to tell you that these names Nita here’s been giving ain’t what anybody calls us. That there’s Cap’n Mack, that’s Butch, and my sister here’s Lil Coop. Gunner’s our armory officer, but he’s back at the mainland.”

  “Well, Coop, may I say that you and your sister are quite skilled at first impressions,” Graus said with a smile.

  “Are we? And here I figured we’d be lousy on account of you only getting to make one of ’em. Don’t leave much room for practice. Say, while I got your ear, does this ceremony include any food? Because Butch there didn’t want to muss up her one good apron, so we ain’t had breakfast yet.”

  “There is a banquet waiting for us when we reach my estate.”

  Coop clapped his hands together and rubbed them in anticipation. “Then you’d best get to Lil so we can go eat.”

  “Oh, we already met,” Lil said, slapping him on the shoulder. “You can move right along to the next bit. Though I guess since everyone else had their whole name said, might as well say mine too. Name’s Chastity Cooper, and that’s liable to be the last time you ever hear anyone say it. From here on, it’s Lil. You being Nita’s dad, and Nita being a member of the crew, that makes us just short of family, right? May as well call me what everyone else does.”

  “Well, Lil. It is once again a pleasure to meet you. You in particular have been the subject of a great many of my daughter’s letters and anecdotes.”

  “Aw, you didn’t go and tell your dad anything embarrassing, did you?” Lil asked, giving Nita a punch on the arm.

  “Lil, stop talking Mr. Graus’s ear off so we can go eat,” Coop said.

  “Oh, sorry. Probably plenty of time for this later, I reckon.”

  “I am sure we shall have a great deal to discuss,” Mr. Graus said.

  He took a step back to join the soldiers and Drew, then fetched a handwritten note from his pocket and cleared his throat.

  “Crew of the Wind Breaker. For many years you have been engaged in activities that the laws and traditions of our land would consider ill
egal. But in that time you have also been among the only sources of information and exposure to a world away from which we had long ago shut ourselves. You have provided much needed infusions of outside thought and influence, you have exposed our people to the wonders of things like the cam-er-a and thus have spurred whole new art forms that did not exist prior. Most importantly, you performed a personal service to myself and my family for which I can never properly thank you. You acquired, at great personal risk, a medicine that saved the life and restored the livelihood of my dear wife, Amarita. For the last four months, we have permitted the Wind Breaker safe harbor within our borders and safety from being fired upon by the perimeter battery. However, it is the considered opinion of the council of which I am proud to call myself a part that this distinction is insufficient reward. Starting now, your past crimes shall be forgotten. Furthermore, from this day forward and for as long as you remain in good standing with our fair nation, your crew shall, with some minor exceptions, be granted the same freedoms within our borders as our own people, and in all matters in which dealings with the people of Rim become necessary, you shall act as representatives of the people of Caldera. Today, you are Calderans.”

  The soldiers, standing at attention behind them, raised ornate horns from their belts and trumpeted out a lilting, nuanced fanfare. Nita held out her hands and received from Drew a handful of medallions on coral-colored ribbons. Each was a gleaming black onyx disk embellished with flakes of a dozen different-colored gems and inlaid with mother-of-pearl in a familiar shape.

  Nita stepped up and hung one on the neck of each crewmember.

  “The medallions you have been presented were designed specially for this occasion. The onyx base represents the volcanic heart that beats within the islands of Caldera. The mother-of-pearl forms a map of our major islands, and the gemstones coincide with the points of greatest pride of our land, culminating with the ruby marking the mouth of Lo, our largest and most sacred volcano. Accept these symbols of Caldera and wear them with pride. May all who see them know that those who bear these medallions are honored guests in our nation.”

  “I reckon us having the wrong color skin would be a giveaway that we ain’t from here,” Coop said.

  “Yeah. And I think Coop and me might be the only blonds in this whole place,” Lil added.

  “Coop, Lil,” the captain said.

  “Yeah, Cap’n?” they replied.

  “Next time you have a thought, keep it to yourself,” he said.

  “And with that I believe we can end the official greetings,” Mr. Graus said. “Feel free to stretch your legs and explore the airfield a bit. When you are ready, carriages are waiting to take you all to my estate for a reception and introduction to the rest of the council. I shall be needed for preparations, but I believe Nita will be more than capable of helping you feel at home in my absence.”

  Mr. Graus shook hands with the crew and took his leave. The soldiers stepped back, but notably did not take their eyes off the crew as the thin, fragile veneer of formality shattered and they gathered around Nita.

  “Never thought I’d see the day that I’d set foot on the mainland without wearing shackles or dodging bullets,” Captain Mack said.

  “I’m glad I could make it happen, and it is so good to see you all,” she said.

  “Look at you, puttin’ on your finery for us,” Coop said.

  “I’m the one putting on my ‘finery’? What about you, Lil?” She gave Lil a tight hug, then stepped back to look her over. “That uniform actually fits you! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you wearing an outfit that wasn’t handed down from someone else.”

  “Yeah, we had this made up special on account of you Calderan folk givin’ a care about how a body looks for special occasions.” She tugged at the trousers. “It’s itchy as all get-out, though. And rides up in places it ain’t polite to talk about.”

  “What’s with the statues?” Coop said. “For a minute I thought you had us landin’ in a museum or somethin’.”

  “Oh, those are nothing. Just temporary. They were built for our flower exhibition last year. To the north and the south are Mardenna and Velemma, twin muses of light and dark, and the one to the east is Harmon, the arbiter of inspiration.”

  Drew wedged himself into the conversation to weigh in, all the while fiddling with a bag slung around behind him.

  “The symbolism was simply too good to pass up,” he said, withdrawing his camera from the bag and unfolding its stand. “Mardenna and Velemma, according to legend, are constantly filling our heads with conflicting ideas, always beautiful and inspired, but so at odds with one another that only one idea can ever be realized. It mirrors the conflict of the muses themselves, sisters ever fighting over the minds and hearts of the people. By tying your ship between them, you now form the rope in a tug-of-war. It represents the place of your ship within our minds, possibly a thing of great opportunity, possibly a thing of terrible—ouch!”

  His rambling and less than diplomatic speech was put to an end by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Nita.

  “I worked with this crew. They’re not bringing anything terrible,” she hissed.

  “I’m merely articulating the inspiration for this photograph. If you’ll excuse me, the light is perfect!” Drew said, squinting to eye up the angle and backing away to frame the image properly.

  “Drew suggested this when we were discussing possible temporary solutions for our first airfield. So we got the crew from the steamworks together to move the statues and make them sturdy enough for the Wind Breaker.”

  “I must not’ve heard you right,” Coop said. “Did you say temporary?”

  “Certainly!” Nita said. “We haven’t had an airfield since decades before the calamity! This place should be a monument to the advancement of our culture and our reunion with the rest of the world. All of this is just a placeholder so you wouldn’t have to wait for the completion of commissioned artwork. A proper piece of permanent exterior artwork of the appropriate size could take years to build.”

  Coop looked over the buildings of the airfield. “That there shed is nicer than any house I ever slept in. What are you folk using it for?”

  “Refuse,” Nita said.

  “So not so different from the places you been sleepin’ after all,” Lil said.

  “Look at it!” Drew called excitedly, his head buried beneath a dark curtain hung over the rear of the camera. “The dilapidation of the ship, the battle scarring! It is a perfect representation of struggle and conflict. Better than I could have imagined!”

  Nita turned to the Wind Breaker again. “It does seem to have had better days…” she said.

  Lil laughed nervously. “Nah, it’s running like a top! Honest!”

  “Sure is,” Coop said with a nod. “All wobbly, fixin’ to fall down all the time.”

  Lil kicked him in the shin. “You ain’t helping, Coop.”

  “You’ve been doing all the maintenance I taught you to do, haven’t you?” Nita said.

  The diminutive deckhand ran her fingers through her hair and fiddled with the blue bow she’d paired with the uniform. “Sure I have. Most of it, I mean. Most of the time.”

  “You need to do it regularly, Lil. A little adjustment every day is better than a blown seal every few weeks.”

  “We ain’t blown a seal every few weeks, Nita. That’s for dang sure,” Lil said.

  “Yeah, we’ve blown one more like…” Coop began, gazing up and working out the figures on his fingers. “There was the one outside Keystone, then the two—ouch!”

  Once again his comment was cut short by an elbow to the ribs from his sister.

  “Dang it, if you want me to hush up, just say so,” he muttered, rubbing his side. “You caught me right on the button.”

  “Captain Mack, you wouldn’t lie to me. Is the Wind Breaker in good repair?”

  “It’s running as well as it ever did back when the fuggers were doing the upkeep,”
Mack said.

  Nita immediately walked with purpose toward the base of one of the statues.

  “Cap’n,” Lil said in exasperation before chasing after Nita. “Come on, Nita. It’s fine, honest.”

  “I didn’t fix up that ship just for it to run as poorly as when the fug folk were in charge. Let me just take a look. Those turbines sounded off balance. There’s probably just a bit of buildup on some of the blades. Maybe a bent rotor.”

  “And muss up this nice dress of yours?” Lil said.

  “I’ve got a dozen like it,” Nita said, eyes craned to look at the underbelly of the ship. “You’ve still got my spare roll of wrenches, right? And a hammer. I’ll need a hammer…”

  Lil stepped in front of Nita and grabbed her by the shoulders to physically stop her.

  “Come on, Nita. There’s time for that later. We ain’t going anywhere in a hurry.”

  “Just a quick peek. It won’t take long.”

  “But—just—” Lil stammered. “Give me a minute to clean it up first. You can look at it tonight.”

  Nita paused and looked Lil in the eye. For the first time Lil’s creeping embarrassment and flicker of shame were evident to her.

  “Is something wrong?” Nita asked.

  Lil looked away and fiddled with her bow again. “Most days it’s me that’s been doing the maintaining. So if maintaining ain’t been getting done, it’s me that ain’t been doing it. We get busy is all. Funny how we didn’t feel short-handed before you showed up, but we sure feel short-handed since you left.”

  Nita smiled warmly and placed a reassuring hand on Lil’s shoulder. “It’s all right. You’re here for at least a week or two, right? We’ll get the ship fixed up, and I’ll see if I can’t show you a few tricks to keep it running smooth a little easier.” She glanced up. “Oh! I’d nearly forgotten!”

  Nita paced over to the base of the nearest mooring stature and rattled out a quick sequence of taps with her knuckle. She turned and gazed up into the darkened interior of the ship visible through the exposed cargo hatch now that the gig had been lowered. After a few moments, a pair of glimmering eyes peered down from the hatch.